I boarded a plane on October 23rd, 2015 at 5:30AM to Washington DC. Washington DC was not my final destination. I was heading to my new home of Richmond, Virginia. I wanted to stop in DC for the night to enjoy it's proximity to Richmond.
I arrived to the East during Fall. I've heard wonderful things about the Fall season by Phoenix transplants who now live in the desert, but I didn't think very much of it, being from Phoenix and all. Phoenix has two seasons, Summer and Spring. We all know about the heat in Phoenix. Everyone in the world knows how hot Phoenix gets in the summer, so I do not need to tell you how hot Phoenix gets in the summer. However, I am one of the few people that loves the heat and thinks that Phoenix should be a Desert City not a city in the desert, but that conversation is for another time. I promise I will revisit that conversation. It is just a long conversation that needs to happen another time. And Spring in Phoenix means beautiful weather and Baseball. What we are talking about now is Fall.
Fall is beautiful. I did not realize how lovely the Fall season was until I actually lived in a place that was going through Fall. The celebration of change and transformation expressed through nature is a lovely sight that I tried to soak up as much as possible by walking to as many places my feet could bear.
My time in DC was short knowing that I will be back sooner rather than later. I was ready to head south.
I've never been to Richmond before. I did not even realize Richmond was in the South until I boarded the train to Richmond in Washington DC's Union Station. It was a short conversation by the ticket collector on the train who enlightened me. He was a kind gentlemen with a weathered uniform and seasoned hair that gave away his age and melancholy approach to ticket collecting, but he was still quick to fact that I was indeed heading to the South.
The train ride from DC to Richmond took two and a half hours. The sun was already gone by the time the train rolled into my final destination a little after 8PM. The Main Street Station built in 1901 was a grand welcome to Richmond for me. Having briefly refreshed myself with Richmond's history of war and reconstruction, I was quite interested in how the city would look.
The first step outside of the station was a little startling. My first view of Richmond was a freeway. No joke. It was the awful I95 that connects Florida to New England. Right there on Main Street you got this I95 that divides the Historic Shockoe Bottom from the Downtown District, and cuts right in front of the Main Street Station. It was awful. It still is awful. A lot of awful things like that have been happening in Richmond since 1737. I thought I was walking into another freeway dominated city. Like I just mentioned, it was a terrible sight and I was worried.
I'm not so worried about that anymore, but I didn't know that at the time.
I live a pretty interesting life in a even more interesting World and there are some random experiences that will have nothing to do with Vibrancy, Social Justice or Environmental Resilience that I will share in the About the Author section.